Behind the Wanky
by Kenmura
Summary: QW14! Since their graduation from WMHS, Quinn and Santana are now adjusting to their new college lifestyles. A life that doesn't include each other, until an awkward incident caused by Santana's accidental wrong call, results in the two girls reigniting their high school friendship. (Rating M in later chapters. Based on season 4 events)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: We do not own Glee, its characters, or its storylines. We are glad we don't have responsibility of that fuckery. lol. **

**The story is co-written by myself and my girlfriend (DementedPanda)**

**The story follows the plot of season 4 and therefore begins with Brittana as a couple. A Quinntana romance will be developed as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy! Be sure to leave comments. The title of the story will be explained in later chapters. **

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Santana looks up at her metallic old wall clock, one eye barely open and a good long second passes before she actually notices the time and realizes she's only got half an hour to prepare for another busy day at Louisville University. She overslept. _Fuck_. Santana jumps out off her bed and runs to the bathroom, strips off of her clothing just as she remembers her promise to Brittany of having a brief _'good morning'_ chat. They have been having problems with communication like most other long distance relationship couples, which is exactly why they made an agreement to greet each other at least every morning through Skype. It's not easy at all for them to be apart when they had basically been attached at the hip in all of their high school years and not a single day had gone by without them seeing one and another. She hurriedly jumps to her PC, opens Skype, scans her friend list names looking for 'Brit-Brit' and clicks the profile to call while looking at the clock on her wall again. In 25 minutes the first practice of the day starts and she cannot allow herself to be late. Unbeknownst to her, she had accidentally clicked another name, 'Bitch', on the list. And before even waiting for the call to be answered, Santana rushes to the bathroom to have a quick shower.

In a narrow-spaced dormitory, empty plastic cups lie scattered on a wooden desk topping dozens of coffee-stained documents that carry words such as 'justice' and 'injunction'. Quinn is nearing the end of a painfully boring all-nighter and with a relieved sigh she takes a final look. She scans her assignment for typos when suddenly a window from Skype pops up, showing the name of 'Santana Lopez' on her laptop screen. _Santana is calling?_

Quinn is definitely surprised to see her long time on-and-off frenemy's name appearing on her screen. Especially at 5.35 AM. Her eyebrows arch in confusion. You know how it is when you got a bunch of "friends" in your messenger but never really talked with them? That's what Quinn and Santana are having. Quinn considers to ignore the call, because who calls at 5-something in the morning anyway? Not to mention from Skype. But seeing how Santana doesn't give up and cancels the call, her curiosity wins the mental battle. She reluctantly clicks the 'accept' button and a camera screen from the other side shows a very naked Santana across the side of the room. Well, covered with a towel - Her hair, that is. Quinn freezes, not knowing how to react. It's not like she hasn't seen Santana naked body before, both of them had been naked in front of each other plenty of times when they had to shower in Cheerios locker room. But definitely never on her laptop screen where every inch of her friend's caramel skin is up for display. Quinn begins to think of herself as one of those horny frat boys who likes to pay a subscription every month to watch a certain porn site. _pft, not that I know anything about those kinds of repulsive activities_.

As she starts to wonder whether or not the call is somehow a mistake on Santana's part, Quinn looks away from the screen, thinking of what to say. She hears Santana rambles on as she dry her hair, in what seems to be a hurry, while facing away from the camera, "Hey, babe. I'm really late for practice… Sorry I just left the call on while I showered but it was necessary to cut time. Isn't it funny how we thought we wouldn't have another cheerleading practice by 2012 and here we are doing the exact thing for the 5th year in a row?"

Quinn realizes that her guess had been correct. The call had been an accident. Quinn concludes that it was supposed to have been Brittany and not herself on the receiving end.

"Uh, San..can you hear me? I think you made a mistake.." Quinn clears her throat as she starts to talk, hoping Santana can hear her. She diverted her eyes somewhere else outside her screen, deep down knowing she can just minimize the camera view, but is reluctant to do so.

"I can't believe I overslept! Carrie will kill me. If you think Sue was bad, you should see how Carrie does her job. She gave us homework! Oh my God, what kind of cheerleading coach gives homework? She made us do a long essay on the history of cheerleading and the impact with economy!", Santana continues to talk while glances to the PC from the side of her eye, enough to see a blonde girl picture on the screen. Quinn can't help but think of the terrifying idea that Sue is only one out of - perhaps many - mentally deranged coaches out there.

Santana walks to her closet, opens the door and bends over, reaching for her training shoes kept inside. Quinn gasps at the sight and frantically tries to minimize the window of the camera without turning off the call. "Santana! Ugh…why can't you hear me!?" Quinn exclaims as she gets more and more frustrated with her clueless friend.

"Anyway, I really miss you, babe. That's why I'm really trying hard to keep our agreement to call each other every morning no matter how busy we are." Santana finally manages to put on her uniform completely and walks to her PC, patting herself internally on the back for having succeeded to prepare in such a short period of time. However it doesn't take long until her eyes finally divert the focus towards her PC screen and that the picture displayed isn't Brittany's, but Quinn's. "What the…" She sprints to the table, and picks up her earphones. "Quinn?"

"Yes. Quinn. Not Brittany, Santana", Quinn makes an annoyed face even though she knows well enough that her friend can't see it.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry.", Santana clasps a hand over her mouth while holding back a laughter. "I must've clicked the wrong name!"

"How come you clicked my name? My name started with 'Q', San. That's a long way down from 'B'. Or do you have a very short list of friends? I wouldn't be surprised." Quinn comments before hearing a playful hurt gasp from the other end.

"Well, Quinn, FYI, I actually have a very long list of friends that sometimes it gets confusing. And the reason why I mistakenly called you is because I put your name as _Bitch_, Santana says smirking, making sure she puts an extra pressure on the last word.

Quinn practically rolls her eyes into the back of her head, "Of course it is."

This time Santana lets herself laugh knowing she won this round. "Look, I really gots to go. Got practice that will start like…now." She says, taking her bag as she stands up, and gets ready to end the call. She hears Quinn sighing,

"Next time, leave me out from your perverted online naked show." Quinn feels her cheek blush as the words slip out of her mouth.

"Right…" Santana stops, not sure of what to say, and begins chuckling to hide her embarrassment of realizing that the change in settings makes her camera turned on automatically every time she's on call. It has unmistakably backfired. "Nothing you haven't seen, Q." She says, winking to the camera, before ending the call. Santana practically runs out of her dorm room, knowing she's going to be in a lot of hell for being late.

Quinn sighs and shakes her head, thinking how she actually misses her loud-mouthed fierce friend. Maybe they can actually use Skype to catch up once in a while. _Or_ _maybe not_. Quinn finally decides she needs a good rest. A couple of hours sleep before the first class today will give her the energy she needs for another long day at Yale. She remembers to save her assignment and is about to close her laptop before an idea pops into her head. Quinn re-opens her Skype window, and searches through her friend list for the name of 'Santana Lopez' and edits it to 'Stripper'. _1-1_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey you guys! Thanks for all of your reviews! We're very excited to have all of you following the story. **

**Be sure to leave a comment and let us know what you think. Happy finals month! **

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It's Friday night and Quinn walks in the dark hall of her dorm. It's almost 2 AM and most of the lights are off - following the dorm rules. She stumbles on the carpet nearing her room and almost falls to her knees. She automatically holds on to the wall, trying to regain herself. The effect of the amount of the alcohol she'd been consuming in the frat party she just attended, is making her really dizzy. It hasn't been a great day for her, she admits. Quinn forgot to do her assignment for the Criminal Justice class, and is late for her Health Law class, and the actual reason why she's feeling like shit is because the psychology professor she's been seeing cancelled their date, AGAIN, with an excuse that he had papers to grades. _Bullshit_. She knows he got to come home to his wife doing god knows what. _Not sleeping together for three years, my ass_.

Quinn enters her door room, after having quite a difficult time locating her room key in her purse and just finding the keyhole. She kicks her door shut, throws the keys on the bed, before dropping her body down on the bed. She feels like crying, but her sadness quickly turns to anger. Hating herself for continuing to put herself in all kinds of drama. She wipes her tears that are dangerously floating on the crests of her eyes and sits up. She sits in the dark and looks around. Sure, she can't really see her room with the lights off, but she can still see the outline of the things in her room. Her bed is located exactly next to the door: A nice queen size bed that hasn't experienced any action,except Quinn and her own hands. On the left side of the bed, against the wall, is a medium sized desk with her laptop, books and papers on top of it. There are no windows in the 3x4 m2 dorm room, but at least there's a bathroom, so it's not a bad deal after all. She's lucky to get a private room instead the co-ed room. Her eyes catches a golden framed photo with the glee club's kids in it. Everyone looks so happy with the Nationals trophy standing in the middle. She can't even bother to put her family picture. _What family? _She still keeps a photo of her mom and her sister in the drawer though, almost like an abandoned trophy.

Quinn suddenly feels alone and the darkness is somehow too much, so she decides to turn on her laptop for a little light. Her eyes wouldn't be able to handle the room's light for now. She grabs her chair to prop herself up, clumsily sits down in front of her desk, and turns her laptop on. She stares at the screen blankly while it's starting up. Obviously, her intoxicated brain is working more slowly tonight. She continues to stare as her Skype logs on automatically. After another minute of staring at the screen, a name is catching her eyes. _Stripper.. _ Quinn can't help but giggle at remembering what happened just three days ago with the whole "wrong call fiasco" thing. _That girl got good ass..among other things, _her laugh is soon replaced by Quinn looking like a deer-caught-in-headlights as another image violates her head. One of Santana bending over. Quinn squirms in her chair, suddenly feeling really uncomfortable.

Before her brain even registers what she was doing, she clicks on "stripper", types "Hi" and is pressing enter. Maybe it's the alcohol, it could be the loneliness too, or maybe it's just the anger she's feeling and she knows that Santana has always been a good bickering partner. _Maybe that's it_. She's looking for someone to have a fight with. She waits for a good couple of minutes for a reply but to no avail.

Santana on the other side is actually sitting on her desk too, bored out of her mind and just browsing the web, looking for something to do. Brittany decided to sleep an hour ago after trying to finish her homework with Santana's help. She's surprised to see a window on the bottom of her screen flashing with "bitch" name on it. She clicks on it and read the message "Hi" from Quinn. Santana frowns, not believing what she's seeing and decides to just ignore the message. _Well_ _that was random._ Not long after, she suddenly gets a call from Quinn and before she's able to do anything, there's Quinn's face - on her screen - staring at her. _Damn automatic call._

"Ha. I knew you're there", Quinn slurs to the screen, giving Santana her best try at a squinted/angry eye, though it looks more like she's just got poked in the eye. The latina could see that Quinn seems to be drunk. It's obvious from the way she's trying too hard to sit straight. Santana smirks,

"You caught me, Fabray. I'm just not in the mood talking with an alcoholic Barbie. What do you want?"

"I'm not alcoholic. I just happened to get back from a very prestigious student party, and just enjoyed several glasses of good wine."

"From the way you're swaying and slurring, looks like you just robbed a convenient store, head straight to their beverages fridge, slipped and then drowned on their several choices of cheap alcohol", Santana folds her hands to her chest, suddenly interested with what Quinn might do while she's out of her "I'm miss perfect" attitude. _I got nothing better to do tonight anyway._

"Yeah, well you look quite beautiful tonight.." Quinn states.

Santana is taken aback with the nice and very unexpected comeback and is startled for a second before managing to reply with a "Thank you?"

"Who would wear make-up like that in this time of hour, seriously. Did you just got back from your pole dancing side job?", Quinn adds with a lopsided victorious smirk.

"Bitch!"

"Slut."

"….."

They both go silent for a second before Quinn is unable to hold back her smile then blown into a fit giggles which Santana can't help but reply with her own laughter.

"My God, we should grow up already. What's going on with you, Q? I know you're not the drinking type. Not after the whole wine cooler thing." Santana asks as she wipes the tears from the laughter.

Quinn sighs and just like that her foul mood returned. "I'm fine. Just wanted to have a little fun. I mean here I am, miles from home and all I do, everyday, is studying. A girl got to have a break once in a while." She slumps back on her chair, avoiding eye contact from Santana. Afraid that the other girl would see her lies.

"I don't believe you."

"Whatever." Quinn sways her hand clumsily to the screen. "What about you? How are you doing? Life must be going good for you. I mean, you're doing what you know well. Cheerleading scholarship, right?"

Santana wants to keep pushing for answer but instead she convinces herself that she doesn't really care. "Things are OK. I got Sue 2.0 as a coach and even more extra essay assignments. I didn't know college life is worse than High School. But nothing I can't handle", she says shrugging.

Her words result in another awkward silence, neither not knowing what to say. It's not like they were actual good friends in High School. It's all about keeping up with appearances. Even with a slow thinking process, Quinn starts to regret her spontaneous decision to call and Santana begins to get annoyed with her automatic answering call.

"And how about you and Brittany? You both doing OK with the long distance thing?", Quinn suddenly asks.

Santana shifts uncomfortably on her chair, hearing her girlfriend's name. Not because her sexuality has become the underlying subject, but the status of the relationship _IS_ and she's been having her own internal conflict about continuing the relationship. Though she will be damned talking about it with the drunk mess, she once called her partner in crime in cheerios. Santana does NOT talk about feelings. Period.

"We're doing fine. I go back and forth from here to Lima every couple of weeks to see her and doing my laundry. So we're fine.", Santana decides to answer as flat as possible without realizing that her tone is giving away her feelings on the subject. They have been having a little problem with their quality time, actually. They both have very different schedules and Santana has "needs" which after some time, she has to admit, is getting difficult to just waive it and wait for every other week. She might sound shallow but she can't lie that her eyes had been wandering more freely and with particular intention lately. Not to mention the girls that had been throwing themselves at her when she went to clubs or parties.

Quinn raises her eyebrows, sensing Santana's grumpy response. "OK.. did I just hit a nerve there?"

"You didn't. I told you we're fine. It's not your business anyway.", this time it's Santana who dismisses the subject.

"Fine.", Quinn slurs her response.

"Fine.", Santana rolls her eyes.

There's another silent and horribly awkward moment. Quinn starts drumming her finger on the table, looking away from the screen but glances once in a while to look at Santana. She can't see a thing in the dark and that is making her even more pissed.

"Well..this is awkward", Santana comments while clicking on her screen, starting to browse the internet again absent-mindedly.

"Yea, I shouldn't have called. I thought at least I can be fake-happy listening to you brag about your new college life. Turns out you're just as sad as you were in Lima. Still having problems with opening up, I see."

"Seriously, Quinn? I'm actually surprised you haven't started talking about how bad your love life is. Isn't that your expertise? Who are you cheating with now?"

Quinn is about to retort with a nasty insult before covering her mouth with both of her hands, trying to hold back the bile in the back of her throat.

"Ugh..San..I think I'm feeling sick." Quinn manages to mumble through the cracks of her fingers

"Oh my God. Are you pregnant again?"

"No, I had half a bottle of vodka, you idi-", she says just as the nausea finally hits her hard, Quinn swiftly pulls out the trash bin from under her desk, and empties her stomach on the spot. Puking so gracefully into the bin, on cam, in front of Santana Lopez.

"Oh Hell No. EW Quinn. You did _not_ just do that on Skype. What is this, ?"

"I can't help it ok!" Quinn exclaims, still feeling nauseous and still trying to stop the dry heaving.

"Go clean yourself. You disgust me. You're just like your mother, Quinn. No surprise there.", Santana says making a face.

Quinn tries to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and covers her face, "That's funny, coming from the Porn Star who slept with half of the football team." She lifts up her head, trying to look at Santana as the laptop's light is somehow more painful for her eyes now. "You know what, you're not even ssun!" Quinn says as she drops her head on top of the keyboard, feeling like the world is spinning around her.

Santana rolls her eyes again, "You mean fun, drunk-ass?"

"You're a lousy stripper."

"What?"

"...and still wearing clothes", Quinn continues mumbling as she feels more and more tired. She tries to keep her eyes open but everything around her is so dark. She closes her eyes and drifts off. Puke breath and all.

"Seriously, you need to go to the bathroom and wash your face..."

"Quinn...",

"…Quinn!?" Santana calls out, hoping to wake up the passed out blonde.

"Are you for real?"

Another silence.

"Quinn! Wake up, Slut", Santana curses, wishing she could just throw something at Quinn.

And that's when she hears Quinn softly snoring.

"You've got to be kidding me", Santana covers her face in disbelief.


End file.
